


then it was easy

by serablossom



Category: Big Hero 6
Genre: (very) supportive aunt cass, Cafe AU, F/M, First Meetings, long-time crush first-time conversation, nosy lil bro hiro, socially awkward tadashi hamada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7376212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serablossom/pseuds/serablossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>//or ‘how you met Tadashi and a little bit more after that‘// if anyone asked you why you favored this café on the corner, you answered with the same rehearsed line that came as easy to you as breathing: it was a good café with good food and a good atmosphere. You did not come to gawk at the handsome waiter</p>
            </blockquote>





	then it was easy

**Author's Note:**

> notes (1): i am so sorry if it’s shitty. please forgive me. this wasn’t easy.  
> notes (2): pre-movie. tadashi’s in his first year in sfit. hiro’s in his second year of high school.  
> notes (3): take it how you want it.

It was Saturday. And it was cold. Cold enough that your breaths came out as puffs of wispy smoke but not cold enough that snow had started to fall.

It was that kind of cold.

But you still had to battle the frigid not-yet-winter-not-still-autumn air that whipped your scarf against your face as you walked to the – _your_ – café.

You came in every Tuesday and every Thursday afternoon and on the evenings of the weekdays in between. Sometimes, you stayed until closing time. You could spend a Saturday’s morning there in the café, huddled in your corner seat with a cup of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies as you wrote a piece or read a book or just sat there and thought about things. If anyone asked you why you favored this café on the corner, you answered with the same rehearsed line that came as easy to you as breathing: it was a good café with good food and a good atmosphere.

You did not come to gawk at the handsome waiter.

(Honestly, you had no idea what you were doing at that point.)

Frequenting the Lucky Cat Café had become so easy for you for the past month, you had gotten used to it to the point that it was engraved into your daily schedule. And it was – most likely, might be, _probably_ – related to a boy.

You had fallen that hard. And you didn’t even know his name.

Lucky Cat Café was a family run business, the owner being a Miss Cass and her only help her two nephews. The younger was a child prodigy in the fields of robotics, having just entered his final year of high school at thirteen. The older was in college, aged 19. He was also skilled in robotics yet not so much as his little brother. When you first of heard of this – _heard_ , you definitely did not Google them or anything – you thought that the older would’ve been bitter and jealous.

You remembered that day when, just as that thought popped into your mind, the two siblings had burst through the kitchen doors and ran around the café, maneuvering around the tables and around each other.

_“Hiro, give it back! I have to leave; I’m already late.”_

_“What? For your ‘nerd school’?”_

_“Boys! There are people in the café, you know.”_

_“Sorry.”_ They had squeaked in unison, and you swore the older brother’s eyes settled on you as he spoke.

Your cheeks were rosy red, either from the memory or from the cold, you didn’t know, as you pushed the door of the Lucky Cat Café open. The winds were still pulling you back into their frosty embrace.

”Good morning, welcome to the Lucky Cat Café.“ Hiro greeted, happily, as he wiped down a table. You smiled at him in reply and slide into your customary booth seat. "The usual, huh?”

“You know it.” You said as you booted up your laptop. Hiro disappeared behind the swinging kitchen doors.

Aside from the other might-be ( _obvious)_ reason you came here, it was also due to the atmosphere. Whenever you found yourself cooped up in your dorm, an assignment or project needing to be written weighing on your shoulders, you just needed to walk over to Lucky Cat and find your muse.

(It so wasn’t because the waiter’s presence made everything seem easier.)

On Saturday mornings like this, Miss Cass opted to play chill songs that alleviated the tension that college caused. You hadn’t even known the knot on your shoulders was there until it was gone. Since it was almost the holidays, she was playing Christmas tunes that made you want to sing along, with your insides all warm and fuzzy.

“Here you go.” A deep voice said as a plate of three cookies was placed beside your laptop; a mug of steaming cocoa followed after. “Enjoy.” You looked up and saw Hiro’s brother’s easy grin aimed your way.

“Thanks.“ You managed to peep out.

His smile widened, if possible, and then he walked back to the counter. You watched him as he left, a relaxed and lazy version of Jingle Bells playing on the speakers and your heart beating too uncomfortably fast against your chest.

(●—●)

A good thing about the Lucky Cat Café: even if you were sitting all alone surrounded by people who all came in groups or couples, you never felt truly alone nor did you think they were all staring at you.

As of the moment, the place was booming. And you were downing half of your second drink, your plate of cookies long gone. Another good ( _great_ ) thing about the place: the stuff was cheap enough for your allowance that was continuously depleted due to your college fees. Three mugs – the mugs weren’t really big, the tips of your middle finger and thumb touched as they circled the brim of the mug – cost fewer than twenty dollars.

Anyway, every table was taken and there wasn’t an empty chair apart from for the one across you. It was noon, after all: lunch rush.

"Mind if I sit here?” The second reason asked, pointing at the vacant seat where you had placed your laptop bag.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside was playing and it warmed you down to your bones for some reason or other. The song. Not the question or that stupid smile aimed your way. Obviously. _Pfft_.

 _God, is he attractive_.

 _Focus_ , you snapped at yourself. _Stop. Bad,_ _Y/N. You do not ogle the waiter. You could be sued for sexual harassment and then go to jail and you will never become a published author because you’ll be too busy playing catch-the-ball with your cellmate to even write your novels._

 _Well_ , the people in your brain said, sarcastically. _That escalated quickly_.

You hastily grabbed your bag and plunked down against your feet. Right after settling back on your seat, it hit you that you moved to jerkily and it made you seem like an awkward mess of eager. You resisted the temptation to smack yourself upside the head.

“Sure.” You said with your voice breaking. You cleared your throat with a cough and then tried again. “Sure,” There. It sounded more solid, more sure.

“Thanks,” The capped teen said as he settled into the seat in front of you. “It’s my break right now and as you see…” With a hand, he gestured to the cramped café. You smiled at him as he slid another cup your way.

“Here’s number three,” he grinned casually. “Your order isn’t hard to remember. Aunt Cass is honestly surprised you can finish three cups of chocolate so quickly. My brother and I thought you had this bottomless pit of a stomach.” A strangled start of a laugh twisted its way out of his throat before his eyes widened as the words he just said processed in his brain. A faint dusting of pink coated his cheeks.

“No, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to imply that we think you’re _fat_. Not that you’re skinny or anything… Wait, no! It’s just… Okay, you’re not skinny and you’re not that fat. Because you’re a girl and so I have to watch what I say about your weight. And you might be anorexic… _not that you look anorexic_! But I don’t know you anyway so I can’t really judge! But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know y-you! I-I… You.” He rambled, the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. “N-nice laptop, by the way.”

 _Oh, dear Lord, he_ rambles _. It’s so unrealistically cute it hurts._

“Uhm thanks.” You said, unsurely. You sunk you front teeth into your lip as you resisted the urge to chuckle. You coughed to ease the buildup in your throat as it readied to laugh. But laughing at him might send the wrong message; he might take it as an insult.

It registered in your mind how many times you’ve written a scene like this: boy talks to girl, boy makes fool of himself, girl laughs and eases tension set by boy, two talk and soon indirectly agree on going on a date.

Normally, you would’ve wondered if your characters would be thinking the same things you were considering right now: proper things to say, words that couldn’t be misinterpreted with a double-meaning.

But your brain was too busy still trying to comprehend that your _crush is speaking to you_ that you hadn’t even made up a coherent response yet much less think of alternate scenarios and fictional people. You were still awkwardly trying to make eye contact like any normal human would but it was so hard to do that because you were pretty sure your hair was messy in a not ‘pretty-and-attractive-windswept’ kind of way and you didn’t want _him_ to see you like this. You were in that nonsensical mindset that if you didn’t look and see him, then possibly he wouldn’t be able to see you.

It was a mentality that was beyond stupid but you were too busy trying not to look like a fool that you ended up failing epically.

Especially since this was your first face-to-face, not-delivering-food-to-you conversation the two of you ever had.

There was a beat of pure discomfiture around you and him.

Then you coughed and said, quite smartly: “No, its fine. No big deal.”

 _Breezy, you are chill and breezy and a people-person_.

After taking off his baseball cap, he raked a hand through his hair and scrubbed at the back of his neck. “Look, this is just… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m not offended or anything.” _Or anything_. For a writer, you were running out of words. As if the encyclopedic amount of knowledge you had on vocabulary had left you in one of the most crucial times of your life: socializing.

He opened his mouth to reply but only a choked out syllable of a word made it before someone yelled: “Unbelievable! Tadashi did it!”

(Tadashi. His name is Tadashi.)

The outburst had been loud enough that quite a few heads turned towards the general direction of the kitchen. The doors swung open briefly and Hiro and Miss Cass’ heads peered out. The two cast a supporting and proud smile (Miss Cass) and a teasing smirk (Hiro) your companion’s way.

“Rein in your girl with your charms, my little college man!” Miss Cass had thrown all professionalism out the window and cheered on her nephew quite blatantly. You started laughing at his expense despite the fact that your cheeks were now colored a faint scarlet from the older woman’s words.

The two heads then disappeared behind the door once again. He – _Tadashi_ – took his face in his hands and groaned. “Unbelievable.” He glanced up at you through the bill of his cap and then gave a tired half-smile. “Family.”

“Got to love them.” You grinned without missing a beat, your voice rising an octave towards the end. “Why don’t we try this again? This pathetic excuse of a conversation, I mean?” You asked, sipping at your cocoa. Clean slate, no awkwardness. _You can do it this time_ , you thought to yourself motivationally. _Just breathe. It’s going to be fine. This is going to be easy._

Tadashi’s smile grew wider, easier, just a little more breathtaking and heart-racing. “Gladly.” He thrust out a hand across the table. “I’m Tadashi, Tadashi Hamada. I go to San Fransokyo Institute of Technology.”

“Name’s Y/N. Also in college: San Fransokyo School for Arts and Humanities.” You shook his hand over your laptop, “Writing and literature mostly. I don’t dabble in drawing or painting or theater.”

“Finally a name for the face that’s been coming in for the past month.” He voiced, you shrugged, both of you smiled. “Are you a writer?” Tadashi leaned closer, more comfortable now.

 _This is going to be easy_.

You did the same and nodded. “Yeah, how about you? A ‘robotician’?” At that, Tadashi let out an actual laugh that made your veins throb with the increase of your heartbeat.

“That’s not a word.”

Your elbows grazed the mug and it edged closer to the boundary of the circular table. Tadashi moved it closer to the center near your laptop. He had taken your attention from the PC long enough that the screen had turned black.

“I just _made_ it a word.”

The both of you laughed in unison.

And then it was easy.

(●—●)

**Bonus:**

Hiro stopped swiveling in his chair once he caught sight of Tadashi and his signature cap. “So,” He chirped from his seat. “How was the talk with the mystery customer, Casanova?”

Tadashi tried for a glare but the beam on his face just wouldn’t allow it. “Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“More than fine.”

“C’mon, big brother.” Hiro egged on. He sat at the edge of his seat. “You never memorized the orders of anyone else, even by accident. And now, when you’ve _finally_ talked to the customer you’ve been crushing on for the past couple weeks, you just sum it all up with,” The teen paused for dramatic effect and raised two hands to ready for the air quotes. “ _Fine_? No, I don’t think so.”

The capped teen threw himself on the bed still grinning. “She gave me her number, bonehead. That’s how ‘fine’ it went.” Then he turned his head slightly to the right, just enough for Hiro to catch sight of the dreamy smile on his older brother’s face. “Happy?”

“Now that wasn’t so hard to admit, now was it, nerd?”

Tadashi said, merrily: “Unbelievably easy.”


End file.
